


Bundles of Joy and The Birthday Boy...

by Punk_in_Docs



Series: Along Came Benedict: The Ben and Libby Saga... [11]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, British Actor RPF
Genre: Babies, Babies Being Born, Birth, But whilst giving birth...., F/M, Poor Everyone, Tessa Being Tessa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-09 16:45:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1990239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk_in_Docs/pseuds/Punk_in_Docs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Tessa?…” Libby asked, rubbing a hand down her face. 	</p>
<p>“The Bastard thing isnt coming out.” Tessa snapped angrily. </p>
<p>Libby had to take a moment...</p>
<p>“And I can help how?” </p>
<p>Libby asked weakly, widening the door and letting the small furious woman waddle in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Herbal Tea, Panicked Mothers and Soothing Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some borrowed quotes from Gilmore girls here. It's my favourite show and somehow It seemed appt to have Tessa say them. ;) x x x

 

Libby cursed as she stumbled into one of Ben’s boxes that littered her hallway. She grit her teeth and ignored the throbbing pain in her big toe, she hissed and ignored the stabbing pain, attempting to weave around the hulking boxes of his things that he had moved in and left in the hall since last week. Not that she minded, she was relatively lazy herself, but as this was the third time this week that she had stumbled into his ‘kitchen miscelleanous’ box, with what appeared to be several tonnes of copper and solid metal pans and pots in there, her poor feet were now paying the price. Mind, she could be forgiven, she was half asleep and her brain hadn’t really alerted into consciousness yet, it was, after all 2 in the morning… She found her baring after soothing her – now bruised – toe, moving forwards on lazy feet to the door where, apprantly, the four horsemen of the apocalypse were the other side of, blasting thunder and lightning fury onto her doorframe, rattling it on its very hinges to gain entry to her house. She was very tired, and the pounding was a rude reminder of the fact that she had been happily asleep upstairs, curled around Ben’s pillow that smelt like woodspice and musk, like him, as he was out for the night, for birthday drinks with friends, even though his birthday was today, they had celebrated the night before, by way of a posh dinner out at a far too fancy restaurant, before coming home and spending most of the evening in bed doing highly dirty things to each other for his early birthday present. He was even allowed a full cooked breakfast in bed, and a morning quickie when they got up in the morning. He insisted that was all he wanted for his 38th. That, and a new pair of socks. He was a remarkably easy man to please…. He even didn’t seem to be too offended at the prank present she had gotten him, some denture fixture, a pensions leaflet, and a birthday card that read ‘Happy Birthday Grandad’ and he just gave her that hot, sexy blue eyed look and seduced her into his allowed morning quickie.

Her focus was returned to the apocalyptic style force of banging that was surely denting her door from the other side by the unknown intruder. Libby suddenly didn’t care that all she was wearing the deep blue cotton nightshirt that Benedict had told her he had wanted her to be in when he got back, along with a pair of blue and white striped bed shorts, and her hair strewn every which way across her scalp in a tousled red tumbleweed type arrangement. Even though the sleeves on his shirt were too long and it was hanging delicately off one of her shoulders. She didn’t care as she threw the door inwards and squinted through with sleepy eyes, even if there was an axe murderer stood the other side, she was not bothered, she just wanted the damned annoying banging to stop.

She met a small aggravated woman in nightclothes, with elegantly curly brown hair and grey eyes, huddled into a dressing gown and looking spectacularly pissed off, but that was nothing new, she always looked like that.

“Tessa?…” Libby asked, rubbing a hand down her face.             

“The Bastard thing isnt coming out.” Tessa snapped angrily.

Libby took a moment to remind herself that Tessa’s due date was a week ago, she had subsequently been on bedrest since then. Hence why she missed Lola’s birthday party the week before, so Libby had to suffice popping round to see the small angry and heavily nine month pregnant mess of her friend with a plate stacked high of chocolate cupcakes. Which were devoured in under three minutes….

“And I can help how?”

Libby asked weakly, widening the door and letting the small furious woman waddle in.

“Well. I couldn’t sit still anymore, I had to walk places, apparantly that helps. And I don’t know, you always seem to know what to do, and you, like kids. Your job involves kids, you must like them. Most of my friends don’t, they either complain about their husbands, and don’t even think about pro creating, or are busy moaning about how they’re single, and whispering sweet nothings to their massaging showerhead..”

Libby sleepily blinked away that dirty reference. “Lovely..” She mumbled under her breath.

She shut the door, seeing Tessa was now angrily pacing up and down from her kitchen to her lounge. Refusing to keep still.

“Your making me tired just watching you…” Libby grumbled.

“I have to do this, I have to move around, I can’t just sit on my fucking sofa for another fucking night, I need to jiggle or wiggle this damned cursed thing out of me. Because clearly, the ship is too big and the bottle is too small, and its not fucking coming out!!” Tessa cried.

Libby winced and tried to master looking sympathetic whilst still being half asleep.

“It’ll come out soon, Tess, its only a week overdue…” Libby tried soothing her frazzled over hormonal friend.

“I blame my mother…” Tessa pointed a stern finger in Libby’s direction.

Libbys brain stuggled with that one for a second or two.

“..She fed me too much roughage as a kid. Bran, and granola and oatcakes. And now, my insides are probably all rough and scrathy, and the idiot baby cant work its way out of my sandpaper innards…” Tessa growled.

“I’m no doctor, but I don’t think it works that way…”

Libby answered. Attempting now to herd the panicking woman into her lounge, seeing if she would atleast sit down for a moment.

“Does Mark know you’re here?”

Libby asked as she managed to get Tessa to cooperate, helping her to lower down onto her sofa. As she muttered unintelligable speech under her breath. Her mind elsewhere.

“No, he’s a heavy sleeper. Air raid sirens wouldn’t wake him.” She mumbled in misery.

Libby sat directly in front of her, perching on the footstool, before Tessa’s eyes went wide and she gripped Libby’s hand.

“Oh god, you and Ben, I’m sorry if I woke you… or interrupted some damn hot shagging…” She said sincerely.

Libby laughed, holding her hand, squeezing back with equal vigour.

“He’s out tonight, it’s just me.” Libby smiled.

Tessa nodded. Jiggling her knee up and down.

“God, I want to fucking give birth…. I can’t take much more of being this bloaty, fat assed, hormonally on edge, maniac any more. I want to go dancing, without my feet killing me after twenty minutes, I want booze, good god, do I want booze! A dirty martini, and a glass of wine, a beer and sambuca… I want to be able to see my feet when I stand up, I would like the phsical capacity to not have the sex drive of a horny boy anymore…” Tessa whined. Dropping her head into her hands.

Libby smiled in sympathy.

“Tessa, your just frustrated, that’s perfectly normal for being a week overdue.” She explained calmly.

“You like Kids…” Tessa suddenly burst out. Libby saw tears in her eyes, mind racing at a million thoughts a minute. “I don’t even like kids, why am I pregnant?…..” She wondered, shaking her head.

Libby clasped her hands tighter.

“Because you and Mark love each other, okay? So much that it almost hurts, and you are going to make amazing parent’s…”

“I’m going to be a shitty mother. I’ll be the one mother whose kids loves their friends mum’s more than they do me….” She whined, fat tears bursting down her cheeks.

Libby mopped them away.

“Hey, now…” She soothed.

“Tessa, you can’t judge what kind of mum your going to be based on other people, you don’t have to know that yet, you only have to know it when you’re holding that tiny little pink bundle of joy that is yours and Mark’s baby, and you feel what’s right in your gut…”

Tessa sniffed.

“But I don’t like kids, how will I even like this? Am I ready for this?” She rasped croakily through tears, smoothing a hand over her bloating round tummy.

“Theres no way of knowing. Its jumping in at the deep end, and I promise you, after that little things comes out, opens it eyes and cries for the first time, you’ll love it better than anything you’ve ever known…”

Libby explained with a calm smile.

“I know I don’t say this often enough, what with all the cursing and pressimistic nature and hating the entire world in general, but you’re exempt from that, your my best friend. And I love you…”

Tessa weeped with a smile, crushing Libby into an uncaring hug, pressing the red head closer into the huge swelling tummy.

“You think I can do this?…” she whispered into Libby’s ear cautiously.

“Bit late to back out now, nine months, all you can do is go with your gut…” Libby answered back. Hearing Tessa chuckle.

Libby pulled back, seeing a small smile on her friends face.

“And if you bring up my crying emotional wreck of a state to anyone, I’ll be forced to ban you from the post of godmother…” Tessa explained, wiping her eyes off with her sleeve.

Libby chuckled, oh, the old Tessa was back now. She was sure of it….

“Would mummy be allowed a cup of crappy herbal tea to calm her down before she heads back home…”

“Yes, she would. But sod that herbal crap, bring me an english breakfast, strong, two sugars or shit is going to go down….” Tessa warned.

“Dulely Noted.” Libby answered, running off quick to make tea before Tessa’s wrath befell her.


	2. Bill Withers, No Sleep, and Intoxication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Drunk Batch.
> 
> Need I say more?

 

 

Blissfully, Libby realised she had just started to drift off to sleep again after ushering home a calmed down from the brink, Tessa. When her slumber was rudely interrupted by yet another loud bang. The fierce slam of a cab door this time. Of which caused her to jolt awake out of her pleasant half state between dream and alertness. She groaned into the pillow she had her arms folded over, smoshing her nose into it and hating the fact she had been disturbed for the second time that night. She twisted her head to the side as she heard a deep and low voice start to drift up to her through her open bedroom window, her brow crinkled in a bemused frown.

_“There’s a stranger in my head, there’s a pounding in my bed, glitter all over the rule, pink flammingg-things in the pool, I smell like a minibarb, TJ passed out in the yard….”_

Libby let herself partially enjoy the sound of Benedict drunkenly singing and slurring, what she could only assume was possibly the lyrics to Katy Perry’s sensational catchy pop hit, ‘Last Friday Night T.G.I.F’ and she could only also presume that the calamity that was her newly ousted to the world press boyfriend was staggering his spindly inebriated limbs up her drive as she spoke. She threw her duvet off and crossed to the window that looked out over her front doorstep below, to see that the telltale sight of Ben attempting to fish his keys out of his pocket and remain on his feet whilst his drunken body wanted to defy him and sway all over the place. She chuckled mildly to herself, leaning her hands on her windowsill, seeing a cab sat in her drive, with Martin, Tom, JJ and James spilling out of the back of it, hollering drunk noises and laughing at Ben as he struggled with his simple task of taking one item out of his trouser pocket whilst trying to stay upright on his feet.

Libby, rolled her eyes, smiled, and made her way downstairs.

She took the stairs quickly, and weaved fast through the maze of Ben’s boxes – making a mental note not to do what she did earlier, sliding easily around to the right to avoid the Kitchen miscelleanous box – and even still with all the added time of her lapping cardboard boxes and making it all the way downstairs, Benedict still hadn’t managed to find his keys and wrangle his way inside. He was _that_ drunk…

She twisted the lock and pulled the door inwards, in time to see the cab-full of drunken men break into a drunken laddish like holler at her appearance, to which Ben twisted and jabbed a finger across his lips, but just ended up poking himself in the nose instead, murmering a harsh “shhhhhhh” that came out more like a “Skkkhjjhjghhhhhhh” that was bred with a rumbling half laugh as he then attempted to speak again. turning to face his friends.

“Libb’s Assleep, Don’t want to’waker’ up….” He whispered in a voice that was;t at all quiet.

Libby smiled and cleared her throat from where she was leant against her door watching this entertaining spectacle, and Ben spun round wildly to face her, mouth gaped and startled by her sudden materiallisation in the doorway.

He clearly spun a little too wildly, as Libby and everyone in the cab observed in anmusement, as he then skidded and toppled off to the left, landing in her wild lavender hedge that lined her small front garden.

She fought a bark of laughter, and bent down to help him up, hearing several drunken voices call across to them from the drive.

_“OH! WE HAVE A MAN DOWN!!”_

_“BEST FOOT FORWARD BATCH!”_

_“NOW’S NOT THE TIME TO GARDEN BEN!”_

Libby laughed as she hauled Ben to his feet, clutching onto him as he smiled wolfishly at suddenly finding himself in her arms, but the reason for this was not for any particular amorous desire on her part, it’s just that he was drunk and his balance was only so-so…

“The sight of you toppling headfirst into my garden _almost,_ makes up for you waking me up…”

Libby spoke softly with an amused smile.

Ben leered down at her, and swayed into her arms so he was closer.

“I’tried to be the quietest of quiet…”

He objected, stumbling, and stooping off to the left slightly as he spoke, one hand cradling the side of her face.

She laughed at his words that made no sense. He truly was gone if even his posh eloquence and vocabulary was suffering.

“Come on you mess…”

Libby smiled to him.

Behind them, Libby heard footsteps quickly rattle their way up her garden path, slowing as they came closer. She manouvred Ben to the side slightly to see JJ jog over from the cab, obviously not as drunk as Ben.

He smiled warmly as he saw ben slump into her grasp, nose snuffled against her neck, placing drunken sloppy kisses onto her neck. She nudged him in the ribs and tried to shake him off.

“He forgot his phone…” JJ smiled warmly, handing it to her.

Benedict usually stuck to his phone like glue, lord only knows how out of control he had gotten if he was minus his phone that habitually lived In his pocket.

“Thanks JJ…”

Libby smiled, ignoring the way that Ben’s hand was sneaking up her bare thigh under her nightshirt. She halted his hand with her own clamping his to her skin.

“I trust he was lots of trouble?” Libby asked.

JJ laughed.

“Oh well, Birthday boys allowed to be…”

He winked, Libby laughed at that thought of humble Ben choosing to be a handful on anyone. She suspected Martin had a heavy role in his drunken stupour he now found himself in.

“F’you’ll excuse us, Jay, Libby’n, I, are gonna go inside and have sex….” Ben spke assuredly.

Libby scoffed.

 _and_ kicked him on the shin.

JJ locked eyes with Libby.

“Ben, your gonna go inside and throw up.”

“well’that’ll be fun too… s’pose…”

He grumbled as Libby walked him in the front door.

“G’night darling… you don’t get too lucky now…”

JJ winked scandalously as he started a half jog back to the cab before some of Great Britains finest thespains began a drunken rampage on the streets of West London. Before he left, JJ clapped his friend on the back, and cheekily pinched Libby on the bum as he sauntered off. She yelped, partially at JJ’s cheeky antics, and at the fact that Ben was starting to slaver his tongue all across her neck in a horny way.

She managed to stumble him forwards and inside, shutting the door behind them both.

“I thought’about you all night…missedyou”

Ben moaned in his stumbling and drunk sex voice as he attempted to being her into his arms and kiss her. Libby smiled and tried to protest as she got a hand clawing into her ass, and a mouthful of sour whiskey fumes, as he slobbenly assaulted her with lazy and sloppy drunkness.

He pulled away for breath and mouthed down her neck, drawing their bodies closer.

“Damn, you look’good…” He moaned.

“...and I’m drunk, let’sdo it….”

He groaned, trying to throw off his jacket but getting his arms stuck behind him, wiggling comically out of his jacket with difficulty, throwing it carelesly into the lounge, Libby heard the heavy piece of material take out a lampshade.

Libby had to take a moment to breathe him all in. To take in this sight. They had obviously been to many a bar, or posh club. She could smell it on him, that busy aroma of the packed crowds and silly dancing he did that made him sweat, the strong drinks he loved that may have been dribbled down him after he’d had a few too many, that still present musky secent of woodspice cologne that bred beautifully with the one of a kind taste and smell that could only ever belng to his skin, and as she had watched him dab it on his neck before he went out, she knew it would be here later, the scent was softer now, less evident through the scent of his musky body heat, sweat, and tobacco smoke that now clung to him. And if it wasn’t the smell of him that got her pheremones racing, then the sight of him would certainly do the trick...

He was all rumpled, she had sent out into the night a freshly pressed, washed and neat boy, and it had returned him to her, as an askew, drunken, flirty and rumpled man. His hair was all mussed, a teasing crown of shining shirt brown curls, like a sexy halo that she wanted to drag her fingers through, and muss up. He still had a light sheen of sweat on his forehead that she was just willing to bet, his silly drunken and unecessary dancing had put there. He had that sexy lazy smile on his lips, that was all crooked and self confident and fuelled by his inebriation. That, aswell as the satisfied gleam of sparkling blue intent in his eyes that looked promiscious and naughty. His clothes also gave away the toll that the night of drinking and celebrating had on him, his tie was askew and pulled loose from the tight knot she had placed it in earlier, and it always fascinated her how he could look so damned appealing in a simple black suit, white shirt, and black tie. It was effortless for him, yet a great and inhumanly effective turn on for her. But she noticed now, he had made himself askew for comforts sake as the night wore on, his tie was pulled in a loose knot about his neck, and she could see the light smattering of his chest hair as his shirt was unbuttoned to his breastbone. The sight of his dewy, sweaty skin exposed made her want to kiss him all over. Ravish him with her teeth if she weren’t such a respectable woman with decency, integrity, and a moral highground. But then she looked back down to his pale patch of skin, glistening in the dark and suddenly moral decency and high roads went sailing out of the window as lust tugged at her gut.

“Let’s get you to bed, Ben…”

Libby offered sweetly. Not for any lustful reason of her own. But because he was swaying so violently now, as he was trying to undress himself and seduce the both of them, and the sight was making her smile.

Most people would be put off by having to take care of their beloved when they were so out of their mind drunk, but for Libby it wasn’t a hassle, and the sight of him like this only made her love him all the more. He admitted he had missed her in the brief few hours they were apart, and now that he was back he wanted to spend time with her, in bed, making love to her. And all that added together made her smile, and her heart leap with happiness.

He smiled that crooked sexy smile that she loved, and brought his hands about her bottom, cupping her into him, thumb lazily swiping across her voluptious ass cheek.

His answer was to drunkenly stagger forwards and try and place his lips over hers again. Staring her down with those sexy eyes.

She laughed and stepped back, tugging him with her over to the stairs. He grumped after her retreat.

“Mnf, you’tease….”

He growled, staggering after her and up the stairs.

His reward was getting to watch her ass wiggle from side to side as she walked ahead of him. To which he chuckled and bit his lip.

“Stop looking at my ass you drunken mess…”

Libby chided as they got to the landing.

“Mn, stern woman..”

He growled innappropiatly.

Benedict ususally may have had a bit more gall and subtlety about him than openly admiring her flawless curves. – in public, or the company of others maybe, but when they were perfectly alone she was all his to do as he pleased, with. He could admire her with free reign. And that free reign usually ended up with her on top, riding him hard and screaming his name as he took her to heaven and back.

She paused and turned halfway up, seeing his chin pointed down as he admired the curvaceous rear view scope of her. He found that she braced one hand on her hip, whilst the other tipped his chin up so it wasn’t at the level with her ass as he approached, and he was looking to her face rather than further down where his eyes wanted to rest, she raised a skeptical brow at him, to which he blushed through a crooked smile, secretly having no shame in looking at her.

“Not’my fault you have a nice’ass…”

He slurred, eyes slipping down to look at aforesaid body part again. watching it sway as she walked into their bedroom.

“I trust you can manage yourself from here on out?”

She called back to him.

Ben’s face paled, and he scrambled madly up the last few remaining stairs, shoes slipping comically on the wooden floor.

He got to the bedroom door in time to see Libby shuffle herself back under the covers, and fidget around to get comfy and go back to sleep.

“You may want to stay awake for a few more moments.. Miss Turner…”

Ben promised with flirty eyes and an even flirtier smile.

“And why would that be, Batch?”

Libby asked back with a smile, readjusting the duvet around herself, eyes having drifted shut.

“B’cause, if m’memory severs me correct…”

He slurred incorrectly.

“I owe you one raunchy stript’ease.”

He growled, slamming her door shut in his wake, and kicking off his shoes and socks.

Libby’s eyes snapped open at hearing that, _well_ , she thought, _this should be interesting._

She watched as Ben’s hand fumbled for his tie, as his legs struggled to keep him upright, but, Libby watched with amusement as he grit his teeth and cursed, slender fingers working through the tough knot.

“Bloody, flippin’….damn, shitting...thing….”

He mumbled under his breath. Before he got so frustrated he just tugged the loosely knotted end up and over his head. Lobbing it across the room so it now looped around her bed frame and hung limply from there.

Libby raised her brows with a cheeky smile, having sat up to better watch his so called, ‘sexy’ spectacle he was putting on for her.

She watched as his hands then went to his trim hips, clumsily flipping open his belt, shucking his fly and zip down, and hilariously shimmying the suit trousers down to his knees, watching Libby across the bed with a sexy smile, biting down on that plump lower lip.

“I want to make you scream my name…”

He purred sexily.

She could tell he was still half intoxicated, as when he leant over to brace his hands on the bed to get to her, and give her a deep sexy kiss that the look in his eyes promised he would, and as he did. He toppled face first onto her carpet.

A lazy “Eouff!” emitting from his throat as he went down.

She smiled in empathy, crawling to the edge to see him laying with his stomach pressed to her floor, on her hands and knees, smiling at the sight of his pale bare back, and his sweet little tush clad in his boxer shorts, with his trousers binding his legs from the knees down.

His struggled up onto his elbows, peering up at her from under an errant curl that fell from that glorious halo of silky dark hair of his, tangling in his eyelashes until she swept it out of the way. Smiling at him.

“Maybe you should just get into bed, Ben, Hmm?”

She prompted.

He bristled at that, kicking off his trousers and scrambling to his knees. Leaning over the bed and kissing her deep with one hand at the back of her head.

The kiss was hot, and urgent, and needy. Just like his voice when he broke away.

“I haven’tfinished ‘tripping f’you yet.”

He purred slowly getting up and pressing her back to the bed. Lips going to her own again and slowly laying her body down to the mattress as he was braced over her.

“I haven’tfinishedsexing’you up yet’either..”

He slurred, kissing sloppily down and down her neck as he went, hands skimming up to press her elbows back up to the pillow behind her head.

She moaned with desire, biting her lip as she smiled and his lips slipped just under the skin on her ear. Hands still keeping her arms above her head as his passionate onslaught continued.

“Ben, don’t call me a kill joy here, but don’t you need music to do a striptease?...”

She asked. Biting her lip as he bit down over her neck.

He paused for a moment, so much so, that Libby could almost hear the coggs in his brain whirring with thought.

She chuckled as he lazily started to hum against her collarbone.

“Ain’tno, sunshine, when sheee’s goooonne…”

He hummed sweetly.

Libby laughed, smile increasing as she slid her hands into the back of Ben’s hair as he continued to sing to her, serenading her.

“It’s not warrmmm, when sheee’s awayyy….”

He smiled against her sternum, unbuttoning her shirt softly ith fumbling fingers, and pulling it open as he went.

“Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, and she alwayyys gone too long, anytime, she goes away….”

Ben uttered sweetly, humming still as he kissed down to the top of her ribs.

“I think of that song, any’time I’m’not’near you.”

He slurred against her tummy, drawing the shirt open so she was left only in her skimpy underwear, having abandoned the shorts with the intenton to sleep comfortably after Tessa left. Alas, that plan for the evening was thrown right out of the window. But now it was shaping up to be a better one now Ben was home.

“Even’if I’m at readings all day, or stuck doing a work lunch, a ‘press conference, anything. I think of missing you, and you not being there, and this’song comes into m’ head.”

He mumbled sweetly onto her skin.

Libby smiled.

Ben led his head to the side on her stomach, swirling his fingertip in patterns across her tummy, placing a gentle pucker to her skin every now and then.

Libby dragged her fingers through his hair, scratching across his scalp in a way that he always told her he adored.

“Get up here and kiss me, you.”

She whispered with a smile. To which he did. His wonderful blue eyes locked with hers and he swayed up to press his mouth softly over hers. The kiss grew in ferocity and passion, hands became insistent, grabbing for hair, or skin, or fisftuls of clothes, until Libby’s shirt was slid off her arms, and Ben’s undewear, along with hers, had been carelessly discarded about the room. (his underwear took out a photo frame of them in scotland on her dresser, and her flimsy silky things only partially disturbed her perfume bottles on her chest of drawers) Libby was too busy loving her drunken mess, and being wildly kissed until Ben broke away from her lips with a sound alert of;

“Protection..”

He huffed in a hot breath with his lips tilted against her own, hips trying not to rut into her naked skin too soon.

Libby moaned, leaning to the side as his hands groped possesively over her breasts, kneading them in his hands and moaning as he felt her pebbled nipples under his palms.

She rummaged around in her beside drawer for a moment, fingers blindly searching for the small square of foil, which, when she found, she tugged out and flickered her eyes back to Ben…

 

Who was now slumped against her side, head crushed to her collarbone with his eyes closed, his rested body pressing hers to the bed.

 

 

“Ben…”

She spoke quietly, trying to sit up.

He made no sound of reply but a soft snore muffled into her skin, a small groan indicating that he was out for the count in a booze induced slumber.

“Benedict…”

She spoke louder, not seeing him stir one bit.

She sighed and shuffled her hand through the back of his hair, twisting so she was comfortably curled up to allow his head to rest on her naked skin as she drew the covers up further.

Libby chuckled as she tossed the condom to the side of her side table, and gently carted her hands through the back of his hair as she drifted off to sleep too.

He groaned a small sound back at her, feeling her hand in his hair. it could have been a soft snore, or a whine. She couldn’t tell. But she slept far better curled up into his side, than she ever could alone.

“Night Night, you gorgeously sexy, drunken mess…” She whispered into his ear.

 

 


	3. Sprog Dropping, Hangovers and Up-scending

 

 

Ben came to the next morning, with what could only be described as a monstrously unforgivingly catastrophic hangover. He felt like BBC news should report on such a travesty of the human body as this, he was almost sure the insides of his head were peeling away like soggy wallpaper, his brain slow, foggy and drinking up his pain like a soggy sponge would soak up water, and he felt as if Wiley coyote had dropped an anvil on his head in manner of some wacky Looney tune cartoon. He opened his eyes to Libby’s bright bedroom, only to have the resulting flaring stab of white hot pain make him close his eyes again. retreating behind the safety of his closed eyelids as his raspy and dry throat gurgled deeply an unhappy sound. Which to him, sounded as far off as if he was underwater. Almost as if he didn’t make the noise from his own vocal chords. Alas, through his haze of pain and misery, and woe, he felt a tentative hand stroke his naked shoulder, a warm, small soft palm. His head was thick with pain and the struggling task of recollection, but he would recognise Libby’s gentle touch anywhere. And as his conscious senses were slowly returning, he could detect the lingering and wholly welcome scent of tea wafting around him in the air. And he could tell she was close, he could smell the ever loitering lovely aroma of lavender and her perfume softly tease his senses.

“Mrrgggggffmm.”

He spluttered, trying to open his eyes again. Meeting with better success this time, the pain was sharp, throbbing. But tolerable. Less blinding white light that burned his retinas like tear gas.

“Good Morning Vietnam…”

Came Libby’s soft soothing voice from beside him in the bed. As he was led on his front, with his head turned away from her, he slowly twisted his body around in the sheets, moaning with pain as he shuffled onto his back. What did he drink last night? _Bleach? Acid_? What possible alcoholic beverage could have this much of a startlingly potent horrible aftershock on him… He hadn’t had hangovers this bad since his Uni days, when, without a doubt, sambuca was usually the probable suspect.

He eventually got his aching limbs onto his back, fighting a wave of dizzy nausea as he stared for a second at her ceiling, blinking slowly as the pain shuddered heavily through his head and her room stopped spinning.

He took a second to inhale a deep breath. Moaning and groaning in pain afterwards.

“I take it from your cave man like monosyllabic grunts, that your hangover feels as bad as it looks?…”

She asked gently. Ben wanted to lean up and kiss a heavy wet smacking pucker on her lips for being angelicly kind to him this morning, speaking in hushed and reverant tones.

He was sure usually, he would be able to spring a witty retort tight back at her, and parry with her rapier like wit. But not this morning. She had to instead, settle for another deep and pained _‘Mrrgghhrr’_ sound from him.

She smiled lightly to herself, shaking her head, and going back to her book. Idly flipping over a page as she sat and sipped her tea and held her book in the other, reading glasses on, aswell as his cotton blue shirt that she was sure she would eventually commandeer as her own, wrapped around her and buttoned up, along with the underwear that he dragged off her, placed back to its rightful place. She had one knee bent with her foot resting on the mattress, book rested upon her knee, an old 1913 printed edition of keats poetry that was so tattered it was nearly falling apart. She nearly startled as Ben’s hand came down on the thigh that was flat on the bed next to his side, warm fingertips stroking up her leg.

“I, will never drink again. Ever, never ever _ever_ …” he vowed in a murmur. Voice rasping and groaning in pain.

Libby sighed and put her book down, smoothing the free hand across his forehead, as if she could gently ease away the pain with a swipe of her palm. Ruffling back his soft brown curls that sleep had disorganised on his head.

“Can I ask a very serious question, which, on your behalf, requires a very serious answer?”

He asked, struggling through his words.

“Yes, Benedict.”

Libby spoke, dropping her voice an octave, and effectively mocking his ‘serious’ tone.

“Why am I without clothes?” He asked, mumbling through pain and groggy half closed eyes.

“That would be because you came home with the intoxicated intention of giving me a striptease, whereby you fell over, kissed me for a bit, then fell asleep on my chest before you made good on your promised act of sex…” Libby clarified with a smile.

Ben opened his eyes with his brow now creased into a small frown, turning to shuffle his head to her and face her.

She regarded him with a pair of raised brows and a kind smile.

“That explains a lot…” He said finally, blue eyes meeting her own. “Besides, I think the fall can accommodate an explanation for the rug burn on my knees…” He uttered in misery.

“My poor baby…”

Libby mocked, dropping her book and shuffling down the covers to curl up to his naked chest.

Benedict groaned, accepting her curling up to him, feeling her press those magnificent breasts against his side, and her naked thigh sliding up to his side. Suddenly his groin felt very stiff and desiring to become… non dormant…. despite the fact he had a throbbing and sore head… He gladly let her snuggle up to his side, wrapping his arms around her side.

“Well, technically, it’s, poor old man, now….” Ben corrected her as she laughed.

“Sorry Grandad…” She smiled cheekily as he swatted her ass, causing her to bite her lip.

“Mmmnn, don’t bite your lips. I can’t ravish you whilst sporting this bleeding hangover…” He growled hotly.

Libby smiled. Placing a kiss to his chest, smelling his usual Benedict-y scent under her nose as she rested back against his chest. Holding him tighter.

And so, they just lay there for a while. Libby slowly dragging her fingers over his chest, drawing lines up and down his skin, between his abs and pecs, feeling his sparse chest hair coarse and glide under her soft fingertips. All the while, he let his eyes slide shut, welcoming blissful sleep to coax him away from pain, absentmindedly twirling his hand over the thin cotton of his shirt at her back. Stroking slowly up her back, to the zone by her shoulderblades that he knew would get her excited. Which, he managed to do, hearing her breath rush excitedly from her lips, as her hips fought not to twitch by his thigh.

“You know. It’s just occurred to me, it was very unchivalrous of me to nod off on you like that. You know what a stickler I am for keeping to my promises…”

Ben purred, tugging her closer, despite the pain in his head.

“You’re hardly in the state to be sexing me up, now.”

She fought, and as she was being adamant for the sake of his still ripe hangover, he would have to go to her instead, rolling over to trap her body to the bed with his own, kissing up over her neck and shuffling his hips over her, grinding his swelling arousal into her own sensitive area. Keeping her where she was as she moaned and cooed softly into his ear, crossing her arms about his back as he was braced atop her and sucking deep marks onto her neck.

“Nothing like hair of the dog to cure the hangover…”

He groaned, giving that as his excuse, rutting into her, and watching with delight as she bucked up into him, biting her lips.

“You’re biting that lip again, sexpot…”

He warned lethally, dragging his own teeth gently over her full bottom lip before ravishing a deep hot kiss that left her reeling.

Her toes curled, he should really be illegal. Such high levels of sexiness could be toxic and very _very_ distracting.

“Your being awfully chipper for a man who couldn’t form words two minutes ago..”

Libby yelped, as his teeth raked over her neck again.

“Attribute that to your power of suggestion…” Ben purred.

“My powers of suggestion?” Libby half laughed in disbelief, legs crossing at his waist as he pressed into her gloriously.

“I have none…”

She smiled in admittance, closing her eyes and letting her hands wander over his shoulders, fingers dipping in ever hard warm curve if his naked skinned back.

She heard him growl in displeasure.

“..R _eeeaaallly_? Hmmm.` Because the thought of you lying at home, in _our_ bed, in _my_ shirt, with very little else on, was enough to send me mind numbingly horny when I was drunk, imagining how long into the night I wanted to spend shagging you for my birthday present..” Ben purred in a low voice.

After that little anecdotal confession, things were kicked up a notch, as clothes were shed, and Benedict promised not to fall asleep, and finish the job this time, seconds away from sliding deep into Libby and relieving his twelve hours of _blueness_ as it were.

That was before Libby’s house phone started to ring….

Libby bit her lip, which Ben’s stomach clenched at, and her head was thrown back to her pillow in annoyance.

“Leave.it.”

Ben spluttered out harshly in an unrestrained growl, seconds away from sealing the deal on their morning quickie.

Libby smirked that sexy smile at him, linking him closer for a kiss.

“Screw it..” She purred against his lips. As he smiled and moaned into her mouth.

 

That was, atleast, before they heard a mellow voice that could only belong to Tess Tellman call over the answerphone.

 

“Ok, don’t pick up. That’s fine. I’ll try not to be too offended at that, but, um, D’you reckon theres any chance you could grab a pen and some paper and write this down for me, it’s an address, where I am, Ok. It’s 369, Fulham Road, SW10 9NH, oh, and, ur, by the way. I’ll save you the surprise now, it’s the fucking Hospital address for Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, because, I am IN LABOUR! And so help me god if you don’t get your ass, down here, right this very split second _RED_ , I will march out of this hospital right now, gown, dilation and all, and come down there and _DRAG YOU HERE BY YOUR TEETH! AND OH! THE FUN WE’LL HAVE!!!! BECAUSE SO HELP ME THE GODMOTHER OF THIS SPAWN OF SATAN IS GOING TO BE AT THE BIRTH OF MY FIRST BABY, LEST I GET A CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE AND INTRODUCE IT TO YOUR ASS!”_

 

Libby gave Ben a pleading look.

Ben suddenly looked sheepish, and that lusty look of his was gone. Doused instantly by Tessa’s angered message.

“Should we..” Libby asked gently, moving to get up and out of bed.

“Yep.” Ben spoke in a clipped voice. Letting her go.

“You ok? You look, terrified…” Libby stated honestly.

“Well, put it this way, I’m not aroused anymore, in actual fact, I think my testicles have upscended back into my body…”

“Tessa’s capable of doing that to a man…” Libby explained, tugging on clothes quickly.

“I won’t have to, be, in the room, will I when she drops the sprog…” Ben asked in a quiet voice.

Libby opened her mouth to speak when the answerphone clicked on again with yet another message and cut her off.

“AND FUCKING BRING BENEDICT! IF HE ISN’T THERE, I’LL FIND A CHAMPAGNE BOTTLE WITH HIS NAME ON IT TOO!!”

Tessa yelled down the phone.

Libby raised a brow as Ben visibly paled and shrunk down five inches in height.

“You ok there, baby?” she asked cautiously.

Ben shook his head.

“Well. They’re never coming down again, now…” He said sharply in a wounded voice.

 


	4. Hysteria, Labour Intensive, and Breaches

 

 

Libby and Ben crossed the automatic doors into the clinical foyer of Chelsea and Westminster Hospital, and followed the signs, weaving around the maze of disinfectant smelling and heat filled corridors that smelt like awful hospital food, to eventually come to the maternity ward wing. It sufficed to say they scrambled around madly pulling on clothes like two souls possessed, not wanting to suffer Tessa Tellman’s wrath more so than they had already doomed themselves too. This left Libby in dark denim jeans, tan UGG boots as they were relatively quick footwear to tug on, her favourite dove grey soft angora wool cable knit jumper, and a grey, red and black tartan scarf. She just about had time to sweep mascara onto her long eyelashes, and dust blush across her cheeks. Ben looked every bit as hastily dressed in rumpled odd clothes as she did. He wore his favourite blue oxford shirt, and a dark grey jumper like Libby’s. Along with dark denim jeans and a pair of his shabby old converse. He had dressed in such a mad rush, he could’ve sworn it wouldn’t have been completely improbable for him to tug on his underwear the wrong way around.

They navigated through the hallways, dodging people in wheelchairs or on IV drip stands, Libby biting her lip nervously. Ben knew why, she hated hospitals, ever since her illness as a young kid, she had always both praised them for saving her life, yet loathed them all the same. And he didn’t blame her for that. He knew words wouldn’t do much justice from him, to ease her pain. But he slid his hand forwards to tangle through her fingers all the same. To which he saw that fabulous smile of hers grow in loving adoration. Silence between them was best for now.

That was before they both arrived at a large reception desk with many nurses in scrubs, answering phones or writing on medical forms crowded behind it, and the large, rather sickening, mural of a heron carrying a baby plastered to the wall behind them, told them both, they were in the right place.

Libby approached the desk, and spoke to the nurse closest to her, and it would've taken a large idiot indeed not to notice how more than a couple of pairs of eyes widened, and elbows were snidely jutted into ribs at the sight of Benedict Cumberbatch stood the other side of the desk, hand twined with his girlfriends.

“Hi, my name is Libby, My friend, Tessa Tellman went into labour, what room would I find-“

She began, but everyone's attention was turned to a room just down from the desk on the right, where a loud clattering sound reverberated off the wall, and from the sounds of things, whatever it was had been hurled against a wall with some sheer amount of angry _force_ , that, and the sight of a small brunette nurse scampering out of the room in tears and rushing past the reception desk in a hysterical frenzy and ducking into the staff room was enough of an answer for all of them.

“Actually, ha, um. You know what, I think I found her. Thanks…”

Libby smiled in well hidden fear, ducking away from the desk as Ben walked after her, and smiled politely in mute apology to the nurses - all of whom swooned as soon as his back was turned.

They both got to the door of the room – ironically, room 13 – and stood side by side listening to the muted and muffled shouts of pain and labour on the other side. Ben glanced nervously to Libby, who was biting her lip nervously with dread, but, unbeknownst to her, in that sexy way that he found truly irresistible. They both heard another loud crash echo off the walls from within.

“Whatever, hell fury, or blazing apocalypse of wrath is waiting for us on the other side of that door, we both have to remember, this is Tessa we’re talking about. The very same Tessa who you’ve been best friends with for over eight years now. And who let you mooch on her sofa for two months when your house had to be repaired from flood damage….”

Ben spoke kindly. The both of them stood looking at the door in hesitance. Dreading walking into what was on the other side of it. Examining the veneer wood door like it was the seventh dimension into hell.

“…And you have to remember, duck if she throws something at you, your livelihood would be remarkably damaged if she twats you in the face with a metal kidney dish and ends up breaking your nose…”

Libby offered in comfort.

“And also remember that she doesn’t mean it, it’s the sheer agony of Labour talking….” She added.

Ben nodded stiffly. Making a mental note to be sharp and on alert.

“All senses are alert. You ready?”

He asked. Twining his hand with hers once more for comfort. Whether or not the comfort was for him, or for her, he couldn’t be sure.

“Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more….” Libby spoke appropriately.

Ben smiled, and with that, Libby grasped the door handle, pushed it down, and once more unto the breach they went….

Despite his bravado and soothing comfort, Ben still was glad Libby was walking in ahead of him. As it was safe to say, that Tessa Tellman, was not a happy woman.

She was panting and doing one of those weird breathing exercises that they teach you to do in pre natal classes. She was covered in sweat, with her brown hair pulled back off her face, with the exception of a few loose long curls straying down over her grey eyes that were screwed shut in pain. Both hands were clutching either side of the bed rails, squeezing so tight, Ben wondered how the metal wasn’t denting and crumpling under her fingers. She had on an awful paper gown, which was sticking to her as with sweat, and a hospital bracelet linked about her wrist. Libby saw Mark, poor scared soul that he was, stood hunched confidently right by Tessa’s side, stroking her back and ushering soothing words to her, which Tessa seemed, miraculously, to be listening too.

“Tessa…” Libby spoke softly, with all the timidity of a mouse.

Tessa's grey eyes sprung into view as she huffed and puffed, and stared down the new inhabitants of her room.

“Oh, thank fuck, you’re here….”

She whined, head slumping back on the pillow as she stopped gripping the bedrails. Breathing returning to a regular pattern.

“How’s it going?…” Libby dared to ask. As Tessa grasped her hand tight and tugged the curvy redhead close to her side.

Libby stumbled into the bed next to tessa with a clumsy “OHok..” wincing at the vice grip her friend had her fingers in.

“Contractions hurt like a mother fu-…”

“Ben how are you? Haven't seen you In an age…”

Mark ushered kindly, smiling and stepping forwards to clasp hands with Ben, shaking firmly and cutting off Tessa’s cursing.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it? How are you, Mark?” Ben asked quietly.

“What a question, how could I possibly answer?” He answered with seriousness.

Ben smiled.

“Oh, _my god_ , this is the last time you are knocking me up _, you bastard!!!,_ because I _CANNOT_ do this again!…”

Tessa whined to Mark as another contraction started.

Ben watched as the poor man blushed in embarrassment. Shuffling uneasily on his feet with slight mortification that his wife was spewing out their sex life to other people.

Libby swore her hand was going blue from blood depravation… and the circulation had long since stopped…

“Ok, Tess, breathe, just breathe through it….” Libby cooed softly.

Libby clasped her friends hand right back and squeezed to help coax through her pain. Going through the bizarre irregular patterns that Tessa was, blue eyes looking deep into Tess’s own and offering their baby blue depths of comfort.

Tessa’s head thrashed back down to the pillow as her contraction finished.

“My god, I _officially,_ don’t care anymore, slice the fucking little bastard out of me…” Tessa moaned.

“You’re doing so well Tess…”

Libby offered sincerely, taking a cloth from Mark and gently dabbing off Tessa’s forehead from the sweat.

Tess moaned in disbelief.

“If I’m doing so well, why does it feel like I’m trying to blow a Great Dane out my ass?…” She sobbed. Big fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

Libby grasped her hand.

“Hey, hey now….”

She crooned, dabbing away her friends frustrated tears with gentleness. Making soft soothing sounds.

“Remember what I said? Tessa, it will be so, beyond worth it when you’re holding that little pink baby in your arms. You’ll forget all about the shitty aspects of labour, because you’ll have something so beautiful to show out of t…” She explained softly, stroking Tessa’s forehead.

Ben was heartened watching her care for her hysterical friend. Sincerely meaning every word she spoke.

“.. And you’re not alone either, look. You’ve got your wonderful husband, who, no matter what, is not leaving your side.. and he loves you and wants you, and his baby to be safe. You have me, you have Ben, and we’ll gladly babysit anytime, may I add…. A whole new host of life is about to come your way, Mrs Tellman, and you’ll love every second. I guarantee it.”

Tessa smiled, at last, gazing at the redhead through teary eyes.

“ _I, I, -loveyosomuch…._ ” She spluttered out, crushing Libby into a hug. Blubbering onto her jumper.

The men’s attention was turned to the door, where a very scared looking doctor was slowly creeping into the room.

Mark laid a hand on his wifes to get her attention.

“What?” She snapped.

“The two people with vaginas and the most common sense in the room are having a moment here…?!?!” Tessa bit out.

“Inside voice, Tessa, Inside voice….” Libby crooned quietly.

That was when Tessa saw the Doctor, who cleared his throat, and pushed his glasses back up his nose, to make his presence be known. He wasn’t very tall, but a small middle aged man, who was balding and looked about as wordly as a newborn mole. Blinking in fear behind the thick lenses of his glasses. And his hands were shaking like mad.

 _My god,_ Libby thought to herself, _You poor man, you don’t stand a chance, Dr, she will eat you alive…_

“Yes…”

Tessa bit out, another contraction brewing. Her grey eyes grew stormy and cloudy with yet unleashed anger.

“Um, we-ur, need to see how far along you are… Mrs Tellman…”

The Doctor ushered, stammering with anxiety.

“Perhaps you want some, pr-p-privacy for the examination?” He offered.

Tessa narrowed her eyes at the small weedy man stood at the end of her bed. Who seemed the shrink under that glare of hers that was notorious for toppling many a man, no matter how brave.

“Of course, your husband is more than welcome to stay in the-“

“Ba- _ba-b-b-ba_! Enough from you, _twitchy_!” She held up a hand to him.

She looked over to Mark.

“Alright, seeing as this little demon that’s trying to claw its way out of my body was put there by you, you big ox, you, I s’pose, have to stay. And Red, and Batch, I doubt you’ll want to see Mr Feeble here jab around my lady parts, you’re excused….” She dismissed with authority.

Benedict heard the Doctor gulp audibly as him and Libby sauntered out behind him. As Tessa ordered Him and Mark around like she was the Queen of Sheba. But as none of the men were daring to stand against her, they were marched around under her firm instructions. Tessa alone was not to be crossed, Tessa in labour was absolutely not, on pain of death, to be trifled with, under any delegating circumstances.

Meanwhile, Ben and Libby slunk out quietly, like two naughty school kids being banished from the headmasters office.

They got outside the door, and stood with their back pressed against the wood. Staring ahead.

“Do you need caffeine as much as I do right now?” Libby asked Ben after a second or two of silence.

Ben was busy ignoring the coy and obtrusive glances from gushing Nurses as the reception desk.

He gave his answer murmuring quietly in a suffering moan of a voice. Linking an arm around Libby and reeling her close, kissing her temple lovingly. It looked like the pair of them were in for a _long_ day….

“To paraphrase Tessa Tellman, _fuck yes_ …”

 


	5. Adventures, More Labour, and Worthwile Benefits...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short but sweet....

 

 

Ben and Libby trudged wearily back through the ward – staff swooning in Ben’s wake – and both he and Libby noticed this, but no move to do anything about it, save for smiling, and twining hands with each other. Ben placing a rapt kiss to Libby’s knuckles, hearing a passing gaggle of nurses gasp into smiles as he winked lightly at his girlfriend. Of whom smiled at him, before the pair of them walked off, following the signs that led them to the Staff and Patient canteen, and also following the scent of badly prepared hospital food that smelled unappetizing. Both of them looking weary, rumpled and both in much need of a hot caffinated drink, and it was only 12am, but the day seemed to have dragged on for _so much_ longer already.

As Libby had the darkest bags under her eyes, and had the most disturbed night of sleep, Ben nudged her towards the rather comfortable, plush looking leather sofa’s in the canteen when they got there. She tried to resist, offering him a fiver for the drinks. Which he snatched into his hand, tugged her close, and slipped the note right back into her jeans pocket, groping slightly over her ass as he kissed her lips slow and deep with a worn crooked smile that was limitlessly sexy to her.

“Keep it. Drinks are on me, go and sit that fabulously sexy ass of yours down…” He ordered with a sly wink.

Libby smiled and tugged a lazy hand to the back of his head, fingers sliding through the silky tresses, giving him a sweet and grateful kiss and sending him off as she crossed to the sofa’s.

On the way there, weaving through the tables, her head was turned as a little girl sat at a table, intending to draw, made a sudden clatter as her tin of pencils fell open and scattered across the floor. Libby stooped amd picked up the ones that were thrown at her feet and all around her, looking up at the little kid, her heart wavered and nearly broke for a sharp moment. She couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11 years old, but she was bundled up in pink spotted pyjamas and a fluffy dressing gown with bunnies on it. And she was also attatched to an IV drip stand that stood towering over her, aswell as the fact she had not a single hair on her head, and Libby had a feeling she knew exactly why.

The girl blinked up in polite shy silence as Libby handed her back her pencils, big blue eyes blinking up at her from her pale little face.

“Here you go, poppet..” Libby smiled kindly, handing her back the sketching pencils.

“Thanks..” The kid uttered in a small shy voice.

“How much longer are you in this old place for, then?” Libby asked with a kind smile and soft tones.

“Two more days…” She added. Twirling her hand nervously across her drawing paper.

“I’m sure it’ll fly by…”

Libby beamed with confidence, stuttering past her heart that was in her mouth on seeing a little kid suffering with the sam demons she had to stuggle with at that age.

The girl let her smile twitch up softly, looking forlorn as she studied the tin shyly away from Libby’s kind smile.

“… But, I bet you miss home like mad.” Libby offered sadly.

“I certainly did…” Libby added. Seeing the girl examine her with an interested loo.

“I miss my dog…” The girl spoke sadly after a moment of silence.

“What’s their name?” Libby pried gently after a second, adjusting so she was comfortably crouching.

“Calculus…” The girl smiled at Libby, properly smiled, it was an entartained smile.

Libby chuckled through her reply.

“That’s a great name. Tin Tin comic fan by any chance?” Libby winked slyly.

The girl giggled with glee.

“Calcy’s my basset hound, his belly drags on the floor when he runs, and I love his floppy ears. I miss him a lot when I’m in here…” She began sadly.

“Well, I bet, in two days, I’ll be delighted to have you back…” Libby smiled.

The girl beamed.

Libby spied the scrappy napkin that was sitting on the table, aswell as the odd biro that was presumably the kids.

“Well. As I’m guessing you like to draw too, and that’s what kept me sane when I was your age, and stuck miserable in a place like this for weeks on end. Would you feel better if you had your own version of calculus here, with you…”

The girl smiled, baited with interest.

“Yes… but hospitals don’t allow dogs…”

The girl said confusedly. Seeing where she was going with this.. as Libby scribbled busily on the napkin.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Libby asked.

“Maddy.” The girl answered.

“Well, Miss Maddy. It is a pleasure to make your aqquaintance, My names Libby…..And Hopefully this….” Libby spoke sliding her the finished napkin. “Should tide you over til you see calculus again….” She smiled.

Maddy gasped and smiled with glee as she saw the biro scribbled figures on the napkin. Which was a cartoon girl who looked remarkably like her, standing on an IV drip and smiling with a deer stalker on, and a cartoon floppy eared basset hound tugging her along, both dressed in Holmes-esque style deer stalkers and trenchcoats, Calculus even had a pipe sticking out of his smiling jaw. Whilst Maddy held a magnifying glass. They also had the scrawled words of ‘The Adventures of Calculus’ scrawled across the top in a fancy calligraphic font.

Maddy grasped it to her chest and hugged it.

“Thankyou very much, Libby.” Maddy smiled honestly.

Libby beamed, glad she was able to make such a small gesture of kindess to a hard done by kid, no matter how little the act.

“You focus on getting better now? Won’t you? That’s all that matters in the end..” Libby asked as Maddy nodded.

“You’ve got plenty of cool DVD’s to watch right? That’s what being ill is all about…” She asked in a friendly manner.

“I have all two seasons of BBC Sherlock. That’s my favourite. Me and calculus love it! I’d give anything to meet the cast..” Maddy grinned.

Libby supressed the wide, stomach melting grin that fought to get to her lips.

“What ward are you on, Miss maddy?” Libby asked with gentle curiosity.

“Ward 4B, in the childrens hospital, Room 11.” She answered.

“Ok, Well. You enjoy that picture, and BBC Sherlock. And give calculus a fuss from me when you see him. You be good now, Maddy…” Libby winked, moving off to find Ben.

Turns out, he was stood waiting for her by the sofa’s, which they collapsed onto as he handed her a large tea, and tucked her under his arm with love, kissing her cheek and sinking deeper onto the comfy seat. Double latte warming his hand.

“Where were you then? Terrorising some poor patient? Hugging small children?” He asked, kissing across her cheek.

“After Tessa has that baby, theres one place we need to go before we head home…”

Libby smiled kindly, hand on his thigh.


	6. Admitting, Balls, and Stamina...

 

 

After a cup of barely decent tea for Libby, and a rather below par, yet effective double latte for Ben to wash away his still lingering hangover, they decided they had better not stay as they were, slumped on each other on the sofa, two minutes away from dozing off piled onto one another. Ben was slumped right down into the large corner, welcoming Libby to curl up into his side, and inhale his Benedict like scent that she loved so much, that was clinging to his warm soft jumper and his blue oxford underneath.

“Had we better get back upstairs?”

Ben asked sleepily, eyes shut, and head leant back against the arm of the chair, as he dragged fingers down Libby’s shoulder lovingly.

Libby sighed. He was right. No matter how much of the pain of giving birth was seeping through in Tessa’s words to them both, she still, underneath it all, wanted her best friend and her best friends boyfriend to be present for the birth of her first baby. And Libby, was heartened to utterly respect that wish.

“Yeah, s’pose we had… I hate to think what we’d be in for if we didn’t…”

“Is It possible for a women in labour to get you in a chokehold?…”

“It’s Tessa. What do you think?… Even if she was physically incapacitated, it’s that lethal motor mouth you have to watch out for. She can kill or fatally mame a man with the lashings of her tongue at fifty paces..” Libby said gravely with an amused smile.

Ben’s answer was to get up, and haul her onto her feet.

“Well, come on then miss, let’s go see this baby…” He answered.

Libby flopped back onto the sofa.

“Five more minutes…”

She whined, going as lifeless and as lethargic as a rag doll.

Ben scooped her up with his arms under hers, lifting her up effortlessly as if she weighed nothing.

She laughed as he swept her up into his arms, tangling her feet into his so she was now stood up, as he stooped and delivered a cute kiss to her nose.

She smiled up at him, wrinkling her nose up and admiring his eyes and face from this newfound angle.

“Well. You have very effective methods of persuasion..”

She admitted. Twining her hands with his, as he chuckled and tucked her under his shoulder.

“Only for you, Baby” He winked.

And with that, they wound their way back through the hospital to the lift, and back up to the maternity ward.

After several members of staff gawped at Ben as he walked back with Libby, and as two smitten and blushing radiologists stopped and asked for his autograph – they eventually, after being accosted by a few more people who thanked him for his amazing work, they came back to the ward, past the reception desk full of gushing nurses – thanks to Ben, he was very dangerous to the NHS workplace, Libby discovered, a poor pregnant women in a wheelchair was nearly steered into a dooframe as the nurse pushing was so distracted by the handsome thespian – Libby rued the day, if and when she fell pregnant with Ben’s child, she feared the nurses would be far too busy fussing about his presence to pay attention to the fact she would be in labour with his hypothetical baby. Dropping his imaginary sprog, cursing his name with the fire of a thousand suns, whilst the nursing staff would be busy lining up for autographs and pictures….

She shook her head out of that reverie, to see in alarm that Mark, instead of in the room with Tessa, was now angrily pacing back and forth by the desk, looking frustrated and agitated. Running his hands through his hair and watching the closed door like it was a ticking bomb.

Libby and Ben approached, both wearing concerned looks on their faces like they were the anxious matching grey jumpers brigade.

“Mark, what’s wrong?” Libby asked, jumping the gun for Ben to ask it first.

“Well…” He began.

A loud clatter ringing off the walls inside proceeded a loud angered shout from Tessa of: _WHAT? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH FUCKING PAIN I AM IN? COME HERE, I’LL GIVE YOU A TASTER YOU FUCKWIT…”_

Mark looked back to a rather shocked Libby with an expression that seemed to say ‘Now do you understand why I’m out here’….

Seconds later, there came another angered wail of pain from inside the room,

“I SUGGEST YOU RETREAT OUT OF THIS VERY ROOM BEFORE I SHOVE THAT PAIN CHART SO FAR UP YOUR ASS, IT’LL GIVE YOUR TONSILS A DAMN GOOD TREAT, DO YOU CURRENTLY REALISE, GOLDILLOCKS, THAT YOU ARE NOTHING BUT GIANT PAIR OF SCRUBS AND A UNIVERSAL WASTE OF CARBON TO ME??? NOW GET GOING BEFORE I MAKE IT NATIONAL WHACK-A-BLONDE DAY!!...”

Libby’s mouth dropped open as they all watched yet another nurse, blonde this time as per her rant suggested, who was fairly robust and stong looking, burst out of the room in tears. Running off to hide behind the safety of the reception desk.

“Mark, your wife is merciless…” Ben added quietly in fear.

Mark nodded in frustrated defeat.

“That’s nearly half the nursing staff on this entire ward that have refused to treat her now…” Mark added in fret.

“What happened to Dr Timid? He was seeing you when we left…” Libby asked.

“He had to go to the A&E department downstairs to have the glass from his shattered glasses lense removed from his nose when Tessa twatted him across the face with a solid metal bedpan after he asked her if her pain level was anywhere above mild discomfort…” Mark explained flatly.

Libby and Ben were wearing twin expressions of diluted alarm. And suddenly, neither of them wanted to enter the room.

“…And to top off sending every doctor run screaming for the hills with their tails between their legs. She shouted at me to get out too, stating it was all my fault she was in pain in the first place, and now, I’m not even going to be in the room when my first child is born…”

He explained in sadness and pain. With the tone of a man who had completely run out of things to do.

“Well. Boys. I’m going in.” Libby explained with a terse nod of her head.

Ben clasped her hand. Tugging her back before she stepped forwards...

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Ben asked with concerned vigilance. Looking at her with Love and worry.

“There’s a chance you could not come back…” Mark added gravely, in all seriousness.

“…And if you do, you won’t be the same….” Benedict felt inclined to add.

“At ease, stand down, Men. She said it herself, earlier, I have the one thing that will keep her from killing me in there…”

Ben frowned. And Mark asked.

“Which is?”

“Breasts, a uterus, and two X chromosones….”

Libby said confidently, taking a deep breath, crossing to the door, slinging open the handle and striding in with such confidence.

Ben and Mark watched after the closed door.

“Such courage, that woman…” Ben hushed in a bemused whisper.

“After our women, Ben, we look like we have yet to summon the strength to grow a pair of balls between us, and are openly admitting that we are _not_ the ones wearing the trousers in the relationship…”

Mark said glumly.

“That settles well with me…”

Ben openly admitted. Both men still staring at the door.

“It’s a woman’s world, it belongs to them, and we’re kidding ourselves to think we’re doing anything more than just living in it…” He added.

Mark nodded, gruffly grunting in agreement.

“Come on. You look like you could do with a coffee, my treat, maybe together we can hope to find our balls in the mean time?…”

“Come on. My wife sent a doctor to A&E and Libby could scare off Napolean himself if she wanted. Face it, Ben. Our balls were waved goodbye to the day we met them…”

“Let a man have faith, Mark. If little else, don’t strip me of my hope yet…”

Ben added, clapping Mark on the shoulder as they moved off. Both men freely admitting they were indeed, weak willed, no balled, whimpy cowards when within the presence of strong women like Libby and Tessa.

~ ~ ~

Libby clicked the door shut behind her, taking another deep breath before stepping forwards so she could see her friend. Who looked permissably worse than she did before. Still soaked in sweat, and with all the strained body muscles that were hunched up like an angered animal waiting to pounce. She was clutching the side of the bedrails, like earlier, with her legs high up in the air in styrups under the blue blanket that was pulled up to her waist.

“Hows that baby coming along, Tess?” Libby asked.

“FUCKING AWFUL! I SWARE TO GOD I WILL HATE THIS LITTLE BRAT FOR THE REST OF, IT’S AND MY LIFE!”

She shouted. Sweat pouring down her face.

Libby nodded, shyly sliding herself onto a small stool by the end of the bed. Hearing Tessa pant and whine next to her.

Gently, she then reached over and twined her hand through Tessa’s, uncaring of how her palm was sweaty and clammy.

Tess looked down at her hand, through panting in pain, her scared stormy grey eyes then looking up into her friends calmed eyes. And at that, her lip wobbled.

“I’m so scared….” She whimpered.

“I know, it is scary. I understand…” Libby ushered.

“Everythings going to change. I’ll be one of those mums pushing round a pram always chatting loudly and being a nuisance everywhere I go. I _HATE_ that I’ll be one of those yummy-mummy types…”

Tessa whined, gritting her teeth through the pain.

“You don’t have to be a yummy-mummy Tess, no one’s going to watch over you, and force you to raise your kid that way, you do it by your rules, no one elses.”

Libby informed her.

Tessa nodded, panting through another contraction.

“So help me, if you tell one soul that I, Tessa Tellman, was scared, and openly admitted it, I will rip your head from your shoulders…” Tessa growled.

Libby replied by lovingly mopping the sweat from her friends forehead.

“I won’t tell a soul, Mrs Tellman, now, come on…. Let’s meet that baby…” Libby smiled.

Tessa sort of, gently beamed at her through the huffing breath of another painful contraction.

Libby found her hand was crushed again as Tessa squeezed it tighter than a mechanical vice.

“Okay, I may have changed my mind about this, oh god……” Tessa moaned in pain.

“Breathe, Tess, Breathe…”

Libby urged. Stroking her knuckles gently with her crushed hand.

“OHHHH _HGOOOOD!_ Right, that’s it, Get Mark in here, tell him if after this baby grows up and leaves home, If I get fat and depressed, and our sex life fizzles out, and if he cheats on me, I sware to god, I WILL _CHOP_ IT OFF!”

Tessa screamed through the pain, and clenched teeth.

“Okay, just continue with the breathing for now, and let’s ignore the wishes to castrate your husband…” Libby added.

“OHHH _! FUCK!!_ Why didn’t I marry a tiny guy with a weedy physique? Why did I have to marry a huge burly rugby playing, muscly guy? Im now going to have to give birth to his huge burly babies, rather than a tiny one that could just slip out easily….”

Tessa groaned. Libby was surprised, that even in Labour, she still managed to be this talkative.

“Did the doctor say how far along you were? How many centimetres you were dilated??” Libby asked.

“No, I’d whacked him across the face with a bedpan by that point…. He was too busy bleeding and crying to respond. Ball-less whimp…” She snapped.

Libby supressed the urge to snicker.

“Well, we need to find you a doctor, with balls, or preferably, a woman…” Libby spoke quietly.

“Oh, they’ll just tell me things I already know…” She dismissed in an annoyed way.

“Well, call me old fashioned, Tess, but it does help to have a professional obstetrician to deliver your baby safely…” Libby pointed out.

“Fine, but _you_ have to go and find them for me, and they have to be brilliant and able to be taken down a peg or two by me, send Mark in to sub, I suppose I have no other choice….” She mumbled moodily.

Libby smiled. Managing to salvage the situation so the father would be able to see his first baby being born.

She smiled and moved off, when a very large figure darkened the doorway, after having flung the door open. Seeing none other than Mark stood the other side, steering a less impressively tall male doctor in front of him, by the scruff of his shirts shoulder, marching the both of them into the room so brusquely, Libby had to partially flatten herself to the wall to let them storm in and get by her.

Mark halted the doctor at the end of her bed. Libby turned and saw Ben give her a thumbs up in the open doorway from the corridoor. But rather than go out to him, she had a feeling she wanted to see what transpired in here.

“Speak…”

Mark ordered. Seeing the Doctor swallow nervously.

“M-my names, Doctor Roberts, I will be the obstetrician present at your baby’s birth…”

He spoke shyly, turning back to mark for confirmation, who gave it in a gruff nod.

Tessa lowered her face and glared at the young brown haired man, who looked like he was roughly mid thirties, tall, and gangly. And, to his credit, only a little unsettled by Tessa’s man slaughter killing stare.

“You didn’t say it would be that bad, or petrifying…”

The doctor ushered weakly.

Mark was stiff stanced right behind him, arms crossed, posture stoic and calmed. He looked determined and resolute nontheless…

“You’ll survive. Just say what I told you too if she starts…”

Mark ordered.

“Mrs Tellman, let’s see how far along you are….”

He began. Stepping forwards.

“Hold it sparky, my mother told me never to trust a boy who didn’t look his age. Especially when he’s one, whose about to prod around downstairs in my private cellar. How old are you?”

“36.” He uttered, spitting out a “M’am.” Shortly after.

“Your qualified to do deliver this baby?” she asked.

“More than so, M’am.” He added again.

“Can you tell me how good a doctor you are, cause to me you look like a giant man child who still sleeps with star wars bedsheets…” Tessa growled.

The doctor stammered silently for a moment.

“W-w-what do I do? Do I say what you told me, now?” He asked timidly to Mark.

Mark was still stiff stanced behind him.

“Proceed…” He instructed.

“Well, Mrs Tellman. With those, ch-chubby ankles and all that cursing, you look to me, v-very much like your mother….” He stuttered with courage.

“Very well delivered…” Mark rewarded.

The doctor swallowed and shrunk away from Tess’s murder like narrowed eyed glare, and her gaped mouth at his words.

“Scrub up, Kiddo. Then get in here and deliver my baby…” Tessa confirmed.

“M’am.”

The doctor retreated, wiping sweat from his brow and going to fetch his medical gown.

Libby had just witnessed, what she assumed to be a pivotal turning point in Mark and Tessa’s relationship.

“Thought I told you to leave…” Tess growled to her husband.

“Thought I said I didn’t want too.” Mark fought back.

“I had every right, whose fault is this, huh?” Tessa asked him, stroking her swollen belly.

“Exactly. That’s my baby in there, you stubborn bitch, so I am going to be here, injury and cruel words from you aside, to see it born.” Mark snapped.

“Did you just call your pregnant wife a bitch?” Tess asked.

Mark stepped closed to her side of the bed.

“Yes I did.”

Tessa reached out and yanked his shirt front close.

“God, I Love you.”

She uttered, before kissing him savagely.

They both broke away after a long moment of passionate lip lock. 

“If I wasn’t having this baby, I’d _so_ mount you  _right_ now!” She insisted.

Mark smiled and winked, before moving in to kiss her possessively some more.

Libby silently slunk out of the room to Ben. Who was stood gaping with an open mouth at the pair of them. Pointing in disbelief as Libby got to his side and laughed, slinging her fingers through his.

“They? Is that? Normal???” He asked shocked.

“Best they’ve ever been.” Libby informed him.

Ben looked shocked, still.

“Come on, lets get something from the vending machine while they get busy reconciing…”

Libby winked, dragging an arm through his and marching him off.

 


	7. A GREAT BIG THANKYOU

 

 

 

 

 

Yes. I have returned - truth be told, I haven't really been far away at all. And this story and these characters will continue. Because I love them far too much, whether it's for Benedict's useless knack at cooking, or Libby's unfailing wit, or better yet Tessa Tellman's toilet mouth. Or even for the obtrusive polite yet greedy appetite of T - Hiddy. I Love them all, so for them, I'm back. (also, I really do wish I could set Tessa on my ill - wishers and critiques...) And for every single one of you who commented to aid fixing my wounded spirit. I thank and adore you with mountains and buckets of love. If I could personally come round to your house, or area of dwelling, I would be placing you in a monstrously large and gripping bear hug, and place a sloppy wet smacker on your cheek. Because my dears, what is an author without their adoring audience?

 

sod all is the answer...

 

So have an update within the next couple of days, and know I love you all very very very very much.

 

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	8. Welcomes, Patients and Wellbeing

 

 

 

“Rupert Oliver Tellman… You were born, on the 20th of July, 2012. Weighing In at 4 pounds, one ounce, you little lightweight, you. But, I suppose I have to hand it to you. Your Daddy and Mummy were very pleased to see you, Daddy more so, because Mummy did curse a lot, mind. And that nice Doctor will need some therapy and paid suspension after the way he was treated when you were delivered… But, nonetheless, everyone is alive and kicking otherwise. I had to wrestle you away from Uncle Ben, didn’t I? yes, I did. He was hogging you, my little godson, yes he was….”

Benedict rolled his eyes, happily reaching over and shaking Rupert’s tiny little, warm pink hand as he waved it around outside the blanket in the air. Rupert was happily ensconced in the arms of his adoring godmother, happily burbling away in Libby’s arms as she cooed softly to the newborn, making funny faces and smiling down at the lad with glee. Mark was outside phoning relatives to inform them that after 8 hours of cursing, arguing, pain and swearing, he finally had a little baby boy. Tessa, by all the rights she possessed, was slumped on the hospital bed, wrapped in a nightgown and dressing gown and having every right to feel as tired and as run down as she looked. But Libby couldn’t help but notice – as she was allowed to be up the non buisness end of things during the birth, that as she was letting Tessa crush all the bones in her hand, that all paid off when Tessa cried with joy holding her baby boy for the first time, even naming him after her grandfather. Going so far as to let Libby pick the middle name, and as she looked into the just blinking grey eyes of the baby with its ruffles and whisps of black hair, she felt a pang of joy squeeze from her eyes too.

Yes, Libby knew she was an optimist. Love was an all consuming powerful thing. It could even bring down Tessa, and that, in itself was a very grand statement…

Benedict was leant over in the armchair next to her as she cradled baby Rupert, who was sporting a little duck egg blue cap to keep his ears warm, and bundled up happily in a blue blanket to match the hue of the hat. Ben didn’t know what he was enjoying more, watching tiny little Rupert gurgle and fuss happily, little pink button nose twitching, tiny hands waving all over, or, the sight of Libby pulling ridiculously funny faces and gently rocking the newborn til he gently shut his eyes and nodded off. Libby stood and wandered back over to Tessa with him.

“Do you want to go back to Mummy, Poppet?” She asked, gently bouncing him as she handed him back over to Tessa, who smiled and welcomed the feel of her tiny baby son into her arms.

“So. Now would you care to revise your statement, Tellman? Is this little handsome bundle of baby worth all the cussing and cursing?” Libby asked, stroking Rupert’s wisps of black hair.

Tessa couldn’t take her eyes off her son in front of her as he slept.

“You bet your voluptuous ass he is, Red. Matter of fact, I think I’m smitten….” She admitted, the warm glow of motherhood dancing in her grey eyes.

Libby smiled. Before walking back over to Benedict, collapsing into the chair next to him, just as Mark re-entered the room. Crossing quickly to his son and wife.

Libby twined hands with Ben.

They watched, as Mark softly cooed to his baby, who gurgled and woke at his attention. And as he leaned forwards and kissed and layed some much needed adoration onto his tired exhausted wife.

Ben and Libby looked on at the heart warming vision of the happy little family assembled in front of them. And benedict was unable to help the words that bubbled up straight from his heart, and which were gently whispered into Libby’s ear.

“That’ll be you and me some day, Lucky. You, me, and our own baby….” He smiled.

Libby smiled.

“Just you wait til I get you home, Batch…” She winked quietly.

Ben’s body alerted to instant and immediate rousing at that cheeky insinuation of hers.

 

 

 


End file.
